


immortalize me

by sundayrice



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Drabble, FFXV Small Secret Santa, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Photographs, World of Ruin, a bit of angst i suppose??, the implication of angst but there's no actual angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 21:38:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13109013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sundayrice/pseuds/sundayrice
Summary: Prompto likes to keep every memory. From top to bottom, a small, cramped room lined with images of the past.And with it, he keeps a lot of hope for the future.





	immortalize me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whimsicottly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicottly/gifts).



> this is my gift for the ffxv small secret santa! i hope you like it ovo)b !! i actually wrote this small companion piece to the little doodle i made because i wasn't sure it alone was enough.

Prompto keeps a small cork board on the far wall of his bedroom. A shitty little establishment in Hammerhead, far from the home he had in Insomnia and far from the home he was lent as a Crownsguard.

Prompto takes it upon himself to keep the past alive in his photographs. And along with the past he keeps alive, he keeps a small glimmer of hope inside of himself.

Perhaps a single cork board was never enough, because now his trail of pinned photographs has grown like an infestation. It reaches out to the every corner of the board, some dangle a little bit off its edges.

He frequently loses track of time, getting lost in the past world captured by his camera. From every step of their journey, the calm and the storm, he's documented it all.

Prompto pauses. There’s one photo among the others that seems alone. His eyes could be playing tricks on him, but it certainly stands out among the rest. It’s one of Prompto’s old polaroids, still kept in good condition and not a rip or fold to be found. How old it is, he can't be certain with a single glance.

Ignis and Prompto. A photo of just the two of them.

Briefly, he glances over at Ignis. He's a quiet sleeper—and terribly exhausted from their last hunt together. A few soft whimpers leave his mouth every now and again.

He looks back at the photo. A date printed on the back.

 

> _M.E. 752._
> 
> _Prompto shakes the polaroid in his hand, waiting for the picture to form._
> 
> _“Ah Noct,” Prompto sighs. “Are you sure Ignis doesn’t hate me? I mean, I’m pretty sure he hates me."_
> 
> _The picture shows up clearer. Prompto, with his arm wrapped around Ignis and Ignis looking awkwardly onwards. "Look at his face,” Prompto says. "He hates me."_
> 
> _Prompto points to the photo and snickers, although Noctis knows better and simply shakes his head._
> 
> _"He definitely doesn’t hate you. If he hated, he would’ve done something about it already,” Noct says. “Nah, but seriously, you’re worrying about nothing. I think he really likes you actually. I mean, why else would he be blushing so much?”_
> 
> _Prompto’s face feels hot. Based on the way Noctis' looking at him, he must be blushing, he's sure of it. Noctis gives him a smug look. It's his "you know I'm right" type look, and as much as Prompto wants to prove him wrong, he can't._

 

He looks back at Ignis, who’s still sleeping soundly on their bed. He looks back at the photo. He's brought back to the past again, from the way Ignis' undone hair falls and frames his sleeping face. A reflection of his younger self in the frame of his present self. His sleeping face, soft and innocent and peaceful, serves as a reminder of better days. Days outside of the Ruin. Days that have yet to come.  _Better_ days that have yet to come.

 _He's cute as fuck,_ Prompto thinks,  _And I love him._  Maybe not as eloquent as he'd like to say, but he doesn't need eloquence. Ignis is far too beautiful for words alone.

The mattress creaks as Prompto sinks down onto the bed. He leans in and parts Ignis’ messy hair, just before pressing a kiss to his forehead. Ignis hasn't wakened up yet, he won't anytime soon. But Prompto contents himself with Ignis' peaceful face. Even in a shitty world that doesn't let him content himself with anything, Ignis is there. And Ignis makes that world a lot less shitty.


End file.
